Twenty Years Later, Jawbreaker's Unfun Is Back on Vinyl

The first time I ever heard the word “emo,” it was in connection with a California punk band called Jawbreaker. The difference between emo groups and non-emo groups, my patient indoctrinators explained, was that the former were willing to sing about emotions, instead of turning every track into a three-minute Communist manifesto. Oh, and they actually sang, instead of screaming their lungs out into a fistful of sweaty microphone.

To tell you the truth, I wasn’t sure how I felt about this. Hadn’t I just sworn off my beloved Cure and Smiths CD’s and resolved only to buy vinyl albums by bands with names like Minor Threat and Born Against? We were going back to melodies and feelings so soon?Then we went to see Jawbreaker at a small venue in the New York City area—it must have been 1991—and I realized that I could have my punk and feel it too. Blake Schwarzenbach’s vocals were just as bad-ass as Ian MacKaye’s, so it didn’t make sense to hold against him the fact that he could carry a tune. And even though his lyrics weren’t necessarily about how the government was turning us all into bar-codes or cannon-fodder, you could sense that the people he sang about knew all that, were as pissed about it as we were, but also had other shit to deal with—like girls and jobs and rainy days and box cars.

I say all this not just to introduce you to Jawbreaker, if such an introduction is necessary, but also to defend the term “emo” from its latter-day associations. Before it became about guyliner and self-indulgent whining, it was about having the guts to be a whole human being when your friends wanted to reduce you to a political slogan.

Hoboken, New Jersey, used to be home to an amazing record store called Pier Platters, and one day I was lucky enough to find a copy of Jawbreaker’s ridiculously awesome debut album, Unfun. It had been released just a year earlier but was already out of print, according to the sticker on the front. I have cherished this thing for the past 19 years (Jesus, is it really that long?), but things happen: it skips in a few places, a ceiling leak a few years back discolored the cover and glued the lyrics card to the sleeve, and so on. So I was psyched to hear that Unfun is being re-released—today—on vinyl, in a new remastered version.

So here’s my unscientific comparison of the two LPs, for those wondering whether they should invest $13.99 in a new copy of this seasoned classic:

Outer cover.

They look exactly the same, except for two tiny things: The original has contact info for Shredder Records, while the 20th-anniversary edition directs you to Blackball Records. BUT the new edition has a UPC bar code. Necessary but lame! Also, my original has the “Out of Print” sticker I mentioned earlier on the wrapping, together with a “Pier Platters/$9.99” price tag, while the new copy has a sticker explaining the whole 20th-anniversary deal.

Advantage: The original, even though it’s also water-logged from that damn ceiling leak!

Liner notes.

I’ve already told you that the liner notes in my original copy are stuck to the inside of the sleeve, but it’s clear that the new ones—printed right on the dust jacket—are way nicer. The lyrics are legible for people who are old enough to own the original record, and there are fun pictures of the band playing pinball and wearing silly clothes from 1990.

Advantage: The anniversary edition.

Extras.

This is easy: the new edition comes with a free MP3 version of the album, with extra tracks. The original doesn’t, because MP3s hadn’t been invented yet.

Advantage: The anniversary edition.

Sound.

This is where I confess that my ears are too bashed-up to tell the difference between original mixes and remasters. The new album sounds a little crisper and clearer, but is that just because it hasn’t been played 600 times over the course of 19 (!) years? To give John Golden the benefit of the doubt, I’ll say the new one sounds way better.

Advantage: The anniversary edition.

Vinyl.

The original is your standard floppy black vinyl with labels that look like they were run off on colored paper at a student union Xerox machine. The new album is pressed on clear vinyl, which is simply rad. That said, I had been looking forward to a skip-free experience with this new record, but there is an incorrigible skip in the first and best song, “Want.” Not cool, Blackball Records!

Advantage: The anniversary edition.

Cool factor.

Obviously, my 1990 copy of this record is cooler than the re-release, which any Johnny-come-lately can buy on Insound. But it’s even cooler to have both!

Final note: For all I know, Blake and the boys would vehemently object to being thought of as “emo.” If that’s the case, I encourage them to get in touch (according to Wikipedia, Blake now teaches English at Hunter College here in New York) so we can hash this out once and for all.